


vindication

by thepsychicclam



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:10:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, Connor and Murphy realize vampires are real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	vindication

Murphy didn’t think Nebraska was so bad, but to Connor, it was the worst place on earth. They’d been on the road with their Da only a few days. He bought a beat up old Ford with no air or muffler for around a hundred bucks from a desperate crack dealer down the street. After they bought the car, Connor and Murphy shot him because they’d watched him sell crack to a fifteen year old boy only the day before. Then their Da took his hundred bucks back.

Connor made him stop at a cheap hotel for one night. He was hot, they all stunk, and he really just wanted one good night’s sleep on a bed, no matter how uncomfortable. The floor was paradise after sleeping sitting up in a loud car for days.

They happened to stop in Omaha, Nebraska. Connor didn’t think there could be a worst place. It wasn’t anything like Boston or the LA they dreamed of heading too. It was slower, the town almost sleepy. But at least it was a bed.

Connor spent an hour in the shower and wouldn’t have gotten out then if Murphy hadn’t barged in and pulled the shower curtain back, “Gonna use all the fucking hot water, ya arse?” and stripped down to nothing. If their Da hadn’t been in the other room, Connor would have just moved to the side as Murphy stepped under the spray, but they had to watch themselves. Shielded their acts from their father instead of the eyes of God.

“I’m going to find something to eat,” their Da had said, and Connor waved absently to him as he walked out of the door, watching a late night movie on TV. The hotel had free cable, including HBO, and for only $35.99 a night.

Murphy eventually came out of the bathroom, “Had to take a cold shower, ya fuck,” and jumped on the bed beside Connor. He started kissing Connor, hand slipped inside his boxer shorts, and Connor relaxed for the first time in days. They’d hear if their Da tried to unlock the door, and driving so many fucking days had made Connor about crazy. And the only thing that could ever bring him sanity was Murphy.

Connor flipped Murphy onto his stomach and held his wrists above his head as he fucked him, pouring days of frustration and anger into each thrust he pounded into Murph. When they were done, Connor rolled over and lit two cigarettes, reaching behind him to hand one to Murphy.

“Where the fuck is Da?” Connor said, getting up from the bed and pulling up his boxers. Murphy made a noncommittal grunt from the bed. He was already starting to drift off, cigarette in hand. Connor walked outside, taking a drag off his cigarette and exhaling as he looked around. The hotel parking lot was mostly deserted, the rooms dark and walkways lit only by dim, yellow globes. He was about to go back inside when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. When he looked closer, he didn’t see anything, but he felt uneasy. He stepped back into the room.

“Murph, get your fucking ass up,” Connor said, pulling on his jeans and grabbing his gun. Murphy scrambled from the bed, yanked his pants on and followed Connor outside, gun in hand. Murphy followed Connor silently, not asking what they were doing, just standing by his side. Connor creeped around the corner and saw two dark figures back behind the hotel beside a large trash dumpster. He turned around to glance at Murphy, the look on his face readable even in the dark. They didn’t get scared, no room for fear in what they did, but something about the scene wasn’t right. They both felt it.

Connor broke into a run towards the pair, Murphy close at his heels. Within a flash, someone was in front of them, baring the longest, sharpest teeth Connor had ever seen. The stench of blood was thick around them, and he raised his gun, firing like a madman. The figure, seemingly invulnerable to the bullets, turned and ran away quickly, leaving Connor shooting at thin air. Finally Murphy pulled his arm down, Connor’s trigger finger clicking an empty barrel.

“What the fuck was that?” Connor shouted, his hands shaking. It had been completely unaffected by the bullets and ran away at a speed he’d never seen before.

“Vampire,” a voice said. Connor and Murphy both jumped, and immediately realized who it was. They ran over to his side, a dark liquid oozing from his neck. Murphy swiped two fingers through it and looked up at Connor in panic.

“It’s blood. Da, hold on, we’ll get you to the hospital.” Murphy tried to lift him, but he was too large for Murphy to move. He looked helplessly at Connor.

Their Da lifted a hand, grabbed on to Connor’s arm and pulled him towards him with surprising force. “Watch out for the vampires,” he said, before his grip slackened and he slumped against Murphy.

Murphy shouted curses against the black night as those words echoed in Connor’s head.

*

Phoenix, Arizona was hot, but not as bad as Omaha. _Nothing_ was as bad as Omaha.

Murphy stole every book on vampires and vampire lore from the library in Omaha. He read them nonstop while Connor drove, neither of them speaking a word. They had hardly spoken a word since that night.

In their hotel room, Murphy set up a vampire arsenal – garlic, broken sticks and broom handles carved into rudimentary points, crosses, even holy water. “Got the priest at the Catholic church to bless it,” Murphy explained.

Connor still didn’t believe it. Yes, he’d seen the puncture wounds on their Da’s neck, he’d seen something that night that didn’t die from bullets. But vampires were only things made up in horror tales and flaunted around Halloween by elementary school kids who wanted candy. They didn’t really exist. Rapists, drug dealers, murderers – those were the real monsters.

“Connor, take the fucking stake,” Murphy said, thrusting the wooden broom handle in his face. Connor took the thing and threw it down on the bed beside him.

“We’re hundreds of fucking miles from Omaha. There isn’t a fucking thing in Phoenix.” Connor didn’t look at Murphy as he slammed the door behind them. But he looked up when Murphy burst through the door a few minutes later.

“They’re fucking real,” he yelled. “I killed one. Connor, they’re fucking real.”

Connor followed Murphy out of the room, still not believing but the stake gripped tightly in his hand anyway. And when the vampire jumped out from an alleyway, Connor lunged at him and stabbed him in the stomach with all the rage he could muster. Murphy pushed him out of the way and stabbed the vampire through the heart, and it vanished in a cloud of dust.

“You have to stake them through the heart,” Murphy spat, picking his stake off the ground. Connor lurched to his knees, throwing up the dinner he’d had only hours earlier.

Vampires were real.

*

Every night, Connor and Murphy combed the town looking for vampires. Their ordained work of killing every criminal was put on the backburner in favor of vengeance. They made a vow to avenge their father’s death by killing every single vampire until the last one had vanished.

Connor spent the days in church, rosary in hand as he knelt at the alter, sending prayers up to an angry God. Murphy usually had to drag him from the sanctuary, asking him what the fuck he prayed about every day.

“We’ve angered God,” Connor said. “He’s unleashed hell onto the fucking earth to punish us for our sin. We have to be absolved before we can destroy the vampires.”

“God isn’t fucking punishing us,” Murphy said. “It’s just another monster for the Saints to rid the earth of.”

But that didn’t keep Connor out of the churches every single day.

*

When they got to LA, the city was as unwelcoming and drab as every other shit hole they’d been in. But Murphy was determined and Connor was indifferent, so they got a one room apartment where they slept the days so they could kill through the night.

Occasionally they would kill a rapist or drug dealer, but Murphy didn’t want to waste their time. “The vampires are the real threat,” he said, cross around his neck and stake in his hand.

“God called us to kill human scum,” Connor explained. “He never said anything about the vampires.”

“Vampires are the scum. And we’ll fucking kill them all.”

But for every dead vampire, there were always three more. Connor and Murphy both were wearing thin, became careless in their fatigue and never ending struggle. Even fucking didn’t have the same cathartic effect it had before, but it didn’t stop them from rolling around the sheets every morning when they got back. They needed something in their lives of blood and undead.

And every day, while the cherished sun was still high in the sky, Connor knelt at the alter of some church and prayed for his and his brother’s forgiveness. Because he knew one day soon, the vampires would take them.

~fin  



End file.
